When you're young
You have no friends
And animals will do
But most of them won't stay
Oh, Timothy
Doesn't need a leash
He sticks around
He won't let you down
Your mother opens the doors
To let the warm air out
And tiny footprints lead
You to the scene
Oh, Timothy
Doesn't breathe
The gray red fox
Has k**ed thee
Oh, Timothy
Doesn't breathe
The gray red fox
Has k**ed thee
Timothy
Doesn't breathe
Whoa, oh
Whoa, oh
Timothy
Doesn't breathe
Whoa, oh
Whoa, oh
Timothy
Doesn't breathe
Turning up the soil
And the headstone made of foil
And your father's rusty shears
And your pillow filled with tears
Oh, Timothy
May he rest in peace
And rest your head
On his stark white face